


What Remains

by chlare



Series: What They Took From Us [2]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Behind the Scenes, Character Study, M/M, Season/Series 02 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 19:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3821899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chlare/pseuds/chlare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Spoilers for season 2!) That scene in 2x09 where it all goes awry in Charleston for Captain Flint and Miranda Barlow, it felt like that was the final nail in the coffin for Flint's old life in England, everything finally severed. This is my look at how Flint might've been handling/processing that scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Remains

It wasn't to be believed. The sound, the splatter of red across Miranda Barlow's enraged face.

His last connection he had with Thomas. Stolen from him. Right there in front of him.

There would be no more solace even in the painful shell of Miranda now. No more pretending he could still have some small piece of Thomas left in his life.

The rage and despair welled-up, flooded, overflowed his chest until he felt he wasn't breathing, his heart wasn't beating as he moved to the Colonel, to shatter that man to pieces with his bare hands. His mind felt empty of anything but a balloon of despair. This man had killed not one person this night but two. Thomas was gone, he was _destroyed_.

When James had heard of Thomas' death, he felt the crushing weight of it, but knew now he hadn't really felt it at all. Hadn't seen the body with his own eyes and felt his heart ripped asunder, tiny shrivels of flesh to feed as chum to the sharks circling, always circling below.

Now though, now he felt that grief in full and in the flesh. As the butt of the musket flashed his vision to blackness, all he could see was Thomas on the floor, red seeping beneath him in a mortal pool. Gone. 

Gone.

Thomas was truly gone, and there was nothing good left of James McGraw inside of Captain Flint.

The next morning with venom on his breath, it was all Flint could do not to spit in fucking _Lord_ Peter Ashe's cowardly face. Spare _her_? It was more than he could stand, watching the box with Miranda/Thomas inside it go past the gallows. That Ashe would let them all throw rot and filth at her corpse, _his_ corpse made his gorge rise and his stomach feel like fire, unable to stop them.

Was this what he was to spare her? Miranda was dead. Thomas was dead. Anything James McGraw had had to fight for was _dead_. Before this day rested, James McGraw would be dead too.

There was only Captain Flint left to tear at the waves and cut down the infernal, useless world that had left this monster in its wake.


End file.
